


Stolen Moments

by rpfwriters



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpfwriters/pseuds/rpfwriters
Summary: You work as a makeup artist on Supernatural during season 1. You find yourself very attracted to one of the stars.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

It started innocently enough. Jensen was sweet, friendly, easy to work with, and stunningly gorgeous. Your first day on set, midway through the filming of the third episode of the first season, you made some off-hand comment about it, joking that they didn’t really need you, not when the show had such gorgeous stars. Jensen had blushed, Jared had laughed, and you’d nearly fainted when Jensen’s eyes had danced across your face.

Day two found you sitting outside, your makeup kit around your waist, watching Jared and Jensen walk up and down the street, filming the take multiple times. It was hot, August in Vancouver, and quite frankly, the boys looked like they were melting. When Mr. Manners - Kim - yelled cut, you bounded out of your chair and hurried down the sidewalk to where the boys were laughing and joking under a tree.

“Hey, Y/N, you got set duty today?” Jared asked. “Who’d you piss off?”

“I volunteered,” you replied, grinning at the giant man-child. “I must be nuts.” You shot a critical eye over both of them. Jared’s makeup on his forehead needed to be touched up and Jensen’s freckles were peeking through, so they’d need to be covered. The thought irritated the hell out of you; those damn freckles made him twice as adorable. They shouldn’t be covered up. But, someone higher up than you was calling the shots.

You rummaged through the bag around your waist and pulled out the makeup you used on Jensen. You turned back to him, not realizing until that moment that you couldn’t reach his face. He was too damn tall.

“Um…” You looked around, trying to figure out what you were going to do.

“Here,” Jensen chuckled, spreading his legs until he was only a couple of inches taller than you. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled.

“No problem,” he grinned. “Anything to help.”

Jesus, that smile of his, with his tongue pushing against the back of his teeth, it was enough to drive a woman insane. You closed your eyes for a split second and took a deep breath. You could not be attracted to him. You couldn’t. You could lose your job.

You steeled yourself against his perfect green eyed gaze and hurried to touch up his face. He touched your arm when you finished and murmured “thank you,” his deep voice making you quiver in all the right places. Which was incredibly wrong.

“You’re welcome,” you murmured, turning to Jared. He winked at you as he bent down.

“Jen’s cute, huh?” he laughed.

“Shut up, Jared,” you and Jensen said at the same time.

* * *

 

The next morning, Jensen was already in the hair and makeup trailer when you arrived. He was sitting in the chair that had become his, a book in his lap, headphones in his ears, his foot tapping to music only he could hear. He smiled at you in the mirror, though he didn’t say anything.

You busied yourself getting out the makeup, concentrating on your work rather than the man sitting quietly beside you. It wasn’t easy, because even though he wasn’t talking, his presence was so overwhelming you could barely function. Every time you walked past him, you could smell his cologne, the scent not too strong, perfect, amazing. Your eyes kept drifting over the breadth of his shoulders, his biceps, and forearms, everything. You had it bad. You were screwed.

“Christ, pull yourself together,” you muttered under your breath.

“You say something, Y/N?” Jensen asked, pulling one of the earbuds out and dropping it in his lap.

“Um, yeah, you ready?” You stood behind him, running your fingers through his hair, wondering what it would be like to run your fingers through it for other reasons.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door behind you burst open and Jared came stumbling through. He slapped Jensen on the shoulder as he went by, mumbled “hey dude” and dropped into his seat. He leaned back and smiled at you.

“Come make me look beautiful, Y/N,” he called.

“I was here first, asshole,” Jensen laughed, reaching behind himself to wrap his arms around you. He rubbed his hands up and down your back, still talking to Jared, oblivious to what he was doing to you.

Your stomach was in your throat, your hands were shaking, and you were done, gone, rapidly falling for the star of the TV show you worked for. You swallowed nervously, a shaky giggle coming from you. Jensen winked at you in the mirror, his hands sliding down your back to your waist, squeezing briefly before he dropped them to his side.

Yeah, you were definitely screwed.

* * *

 

Jensen only ratcheted up the flirting after that. He’d smile and wink at you, put a hand in the small of your back, rub your arm, tell you corny jokes to make you laugh, stay after work and help you clean up the trailer, and a million other little things. He was charming, sweet, irresistible. Your feelings for him were getting stronger with every day that passed. By the time filming started on episode six, you were head over heels in love with Jensen Ackles. You found yourself flirting back, spending extra time on his hair, his makeup, favoring him over Jared, the two of you growing closer with every day that passed.

You were almost relieved when Christmas break rolled around. Jensen headed to Texas, while you went home for two weeks, the two of you separated by thousands of miles. It would give you some much needed time to catch your breath, figure out what the hell was happening.

Your time away from him did nothing to curb your appetite for the gorgeous star, if anything, you seemed to be falling harder and deeper for him. You missed him; missed his laugh, missed the way he’d gently touch you, missed talking with him at the start of his day, you missed everything about him.

Your first Monday morning back, you were a mess, nervous, unsure of what you would say or do when you saw Jensen. You’d had to give yourself a pep talk to even make to work this morning. Despite how you felt about Jensen, the fact remained that you still had a job to do, a job you could lose if you weren’t careful. You weren’t sure you were ready to see him, your resolve weakened around him.

To your surprise, you gained an unexpected reprieve; Jensen wasn’t due on set until later that afternoon, so you only had to put up with Jared. Unfortunately, he spent the morning teasing you about his co-star’s interest in you, despite your protests to the contrary.

“He likes you, Y/N, trust me, I can tell,” Jared chuckled. “And I think you like him, too.”

“Jared,” you sighed. “Let it go.” You stood at the counter, shoving makeup into your kit. You’d already asked if you could work on set today, hoping to avoid being alone with Jensen.

“Alright, but I know I’m right,” Jared shrugged. “You’ll see.”

* * *

 

“Are you kidding me?” you muttered, slamming your hand on the steering wheel of your piece of shit car. You shoved open the door, climbed out, and set your purse on the hood, digging through it for your cell phone. You were going to have to call a cab.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jensen was walking toward you, his hands shoved in his pockets, that adorable smirk on his face.

“My car won’t start,” you sighed. “I’m just going to call a cab.”

Jensen reached out and plucked the phone from your hand. “Forget that, I’ll give you a ride. Car’s right over there.” He pointed behind him. The black SUV that hauled the boys back and forth to set was parked on the other side of the lot, engine running. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He took your arm and pulled you after him, opening the door and gesturing for you to get in the car.

You glanced back at your car. You could refuse, wait for a cab, in the dark, by yourself, or you could suck it up, be a woman, and let Jensen give you a ride home. You climbed into the car, sighing.

Jensen followed you in, so you slid across the seat, all the way across the seat, plastering yourself against the door, staring out the window. You had hoped Jared would be there, maybe act as a buffer, but he wasn’t, so you settled for clasping your hands in your lap, squeezing them together, willing them not to shake, staring at them. The driver asked for your address and you somehow managed to spit it out, your voice squeaky and breathy. You wanted to hide.

Jensen made small talk, asking you about your time off, what you thought was wrong with your car, life in general. You answered, though you were pretty sure your answers were vague and incoherent. It didn’t take long for the conversation to fade away, leaving the two of you in uncomfortable silence. As the driver approached your apartment building, you had to force yourself not to jump from the vehicle and run away screaming.

“Thanks, Jensen, I really appreciate the ride,” you mumbled, opening the door before the car had barely stopped. You hit the ground running, hurrying up the sidewalk, digging through your purse for your keys.

“Y/N, wait!” Jensen yelled.

You could hear him running after you, and for a split second, you thought about diving through the door, and slamming it in his face. But you slowed, stopping in front of the door to the building, leaning against the wall beside it, waiting. Jensen stopped beside you, a crooked smile on his face. He rested his arm on the brick wall just above your head, his hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans. He stared down at you, so close you could feel his breath blowing against your hair, feel the heat radiating from him, even smell the light scent of his cologne and the soap he used to wash the makeup off his face.

“What are you running from, Y/N?” he murmured.

A nervous giggle erupted from you. That was possibly the most loaded question you’d ever been asked.

You stared at your feet, suddenly very interested in your shoes. “You,” you breathed. “I’m running away from you.”

The words were out before you could stop them, before you could filter them in anyway. You cringed, sure that Jensen would think you were insane. Hell, you felt like you were.

Jensen reached out and put his hand on your waist, squeezing gently.

“Are you afraid of me?” he whispered.

“N-no,” you stammered.

“Then why are you running away from me? Why did you avoid me on set all day?” He squeezed your waist again, his eyes imploring you to tell him the truth.

“Because I’m falling head over heels in love with you, Jensen,” you blurted. “And the thought scares the shit out of me. You happy now?”

“Yes,” Jensen chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to hear you say that. Waiting to hear you admit that you were falling for me, too.”

“Too?” you mumbled, though you weren’t sure he heard you because his mouth was on yours, his tongue pushing past your lips, dancing against yours. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you tight against him. You rose up on your toes, pushing into the kiss, your fingers scratching against the short hairs on the back of his neck.

Once he finally let you go, too soon as far as you were concerned, you pressed your face against his chest, and sighed.

“We can’t do this,” you mumbled.

“I disagree,” Jensen whispered, kissing your temple. “It’s obvious we like each other. I think we should give it a shot.”

“But, my job -”

“Will be fine,” Jensen finished.

“You don’t know that,” you argued. Why the hell were you trying to talk him out of dating you? Were you crazy?

“Trust me,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to your job. For now, we’ll keep this between us. I won’t even tell Jared. What do you say?”

“Alright, I can do that,” you nodded, fisting your hands in his shirt, tugging him closer.

He lifted you, crushing you to his chest, and kissed you again. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear the breathy sighs he made as the kiss deepened. You wanted to stay there, in his arms, forever.

A double tap of the horn from Jensen’s driver interrupted the kiss, pulled you apart. Jensen stepped backwards, a smile on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” he said before turning and jogging back to the waiting vehicle.

* * *

The next few weeks were a rollercoaster of craziness; trying to keep your relationship with Jensen a secret from everyone on set was proving to be extremely difficult. It had snowballed into this clandestine  _thing_  between you, the two of you doing everything you could to steal a moment alone, no matter how brief. Jensen would show up early, sneaking into the hair and makeup trailer before anyone else made it to set, slipping in and closing the door behind him, pulling you into his arms and kissing you like it had been months instead of hours since he’d seen you. As soon as the knob rattled, signaling someone else coming in, you’d jump apart and act as if you hadn’t been anywhere near each other. Sometimes he’d pull you into empty rooms on set, sneaking a kiss when no one was looking, then hurrying back to his mark before anyone missed him. You’d make excuses to get close to him, fixing his hair, touching up his makeup, anything to spend a moment or two staring into his emerald green eyes, or brushing your fingers through his hair or down his cheek. Sometimes during lunch, you’d sneak into his trailer for a hurried makeout session, Jensen’s hands roaming over your body, caressing your breasts over the top of your shirt, you palming him through his jeans until he was begging you to stop before he exploded.

Unfortunately, those moments alone were few and far between. The boys’ schedule was grueling, fourteen to fifteen hour days, five days a week. You and Jensen could occasionally catch some time alone on the weekends, but it was proving more and more difficult, what with the press coverage of the show, friends and family wanting to spend time with him, and of course, there was Jared.

Jared. You loved the giant five-year-old in a twenty-two-year-old man’s body, you really did. He never failed to make you giggle, never failed to make a joke, or take a minute to ask you how you were, listening intently as you talked, sharing his candy with you. He and Jensen had become good friends, close friends, the camaraderie between them was unbelievable, especially for two young actors on a television show. But Jared was always around. He’d burst into rooms unexpectedly, show up at Jensen’s hotel on the weekends to hang out, plop himself in Jensen’s trailer during the lunch or dinner break, grab a ride into work with Jen’s driver. He was always around. It was seriously cutting into your time with Jensen. You were lucky if you could get him alone for more than a couple of hours.

“You haven’t slept with him yet?” Maggie laughed. “Haven’t you two been dating for more than a month?”

“Almost two,” you sighed, snagging a fry off of your friend’s plate and shoving it in your mouth. Maggie was the only person in the world you’d confided in about Jensen. You’d called her to grab lunch because you needed someone to talk to about your stalled-and-going-nowhere relationship.  “Let’s just say at this point, we are both very sexually frustrated.”

Maggie quirked an eyebrow at you. “Then why the hell are you sitting here with me on a Sunday afternoon, instead of doing the nasty with the golden boy?”

You threw one of the fries in your hand at your friend, giggling. “His parents are in town. They’re leaving in the morning. It’s always one thing after another. We were going to grab dinner tomorrow night, but there’s some press thing he has to do. I’ll only get to see him because Bob asked me to do the boys hair and makeup. I swear to God, Maggie, even if the sex sucks, it will be great because of all the sexual tension we’ve build-up over that last few weeks.”

Maggie burst out laughing, so hard she had to put her head down on the table, her shoulders heaving, her hair falling in her food. You couldn’t help but giggle yourself, though you didn’t find the situation all that funny. This secret relationship with a TV star stuff was a lot harder than you’d thought it would be.

* * *

 

Their makeup was on, their hair was fixed, the cameras were rolling for the interview, and you could finally sit down and catch your breath. You’d been on the go since early this morning, and with Jeff on set for the week, you’d been extra busy. The only thing keeping you going was Jensen.

“Meet me in my trailer when the interview’s over,” he’d whispered in your ear, squeezing your waist before hurrying after Jared to the chairs set up on in front of the Impala.

You stood in the back of the room, bouncing on your toes, your stomach a knot of nerves. This could be the night, finally, the night that your relationship with Jensen moved to a new level. Your skin was tingling just thinking about it. You checked your watch several times, anxious for the interview to wrap up.

“You okay, Miss Y/L/N?” Bob Singer asked. You hadn’t heard him walk up behind you. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“Oh, I’m good, Mr. Singer, I’m good,” you muttered. “Just had too much coffee, I guess.” You giggled nervously.

“Okay,” he laughed, patting you on the shoulder. He meandered through the crowd to the edge of the set, keeping a critical eye and ear on the boys.

It was another fifteen minutes before the interview wound down and another ten after that before the boys were set free. Jensen caught your eye as he stood talking to Bob, giving you a nod and a wink. You said your goodbyes to your colleagues and hurried to the hair and makeup trailer. You quickly put everything away, then you opened the door and stuck your head out. Jensen’s trailer was only four away and no one was in sight. You slipped out the door, ran down the line of trailers, pushed open his door, and snuck inside.

There was one light burning over the sink in the kitchenette. You tossed your jacket on one of the chairs, kicked off your shoes, and sat down, your hands clasped between your knees. You were shaking, your leg bouncing, your anxiety through the roof. You might not survive this.

The door opened ten minutes later and Jensen walked in. He still had his makeup on and a button down shirt over a t-shirt, what he and Jared called “standard Winchester wear.” He kicked the door shut and headed directly for you, kissed the top of your head, then he disappeared into the small bedroom. A few minutes later, he emerged, no makeup, in sweats and a t-shirt, and barefoot. He dropped to the couch beside you and pulled you into his lap. He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipped your head back, and caught your lips in his, kissing you hungrily.

All the pent up sexual frustration of the last few weeks seemed to explode out of both of you. Jensen rolled you to your back, his hands beneath your shirt, impatiently pushing it up and off. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs circling the nipples hardening beneath your lace bra, his lips on your neck, sucking and biting. You dragged his shirt up his back, your nails scraping at his flesh, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours.

Jensen pushed himself to his knees and ripped his shirt over his head, while you popped the button on your jeans. He grabbed the waistband and helped you wiggle out of them, adding them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor along with his sweatpants, then he wedged himself between you and the back of the couch, pulling your leg over his waist, his hand sliding up your thigh and over your stomach until he was able to hook a finger in your bra, tugging it down, his lips wrapping around the nipple, suckling it.

He pinched the other nipple, plucking and twisting it between his thumb and forefinger, pain mixed with pleasure working its way through you, your body on fire, your legs tightening around him. You could feel his arousal behind the thin material of his boxer briefs, feel it as he moved against you. Heat settled deep in the pit of your stomach, your need for him off the charts. You dragged your fingers through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck, holding him tight.

“Oh God, Jensen,” you moaned.

Jensen pushed his hand between your bodies, growling as his fingers slid through the slick between your legs, circling your clit, all while his tongue laved your nipple. You wanted him closer, wanted him inside you, wanted every inch of him. Two of his fingers slipped inside you, thrusting and pumping, pushing you right up to the edge.

Neither of you noticed the door to the trailer opening until a loud voice interrupted you.

“Hey, Jen, let’s go grab some…oh, fuck! Sorry! Sorry!”

Jared.


	2. Chapter 2

“Jared, wait,” Jensen yelled, wiggling out from beneath you and pushing himself off of the couch, knocking you to the floor in the process. “Sorry, Y/N,” he muttered, pulling on his sweats and sprinting for the door.

“Jared, come on man, wait a minute,” you heard him yell again.

“Shit,” you grumbled, crawling across the floor and grabbing your clothes. You hurried into Jensen’s bedroom and put them on, then you were back in the main living area of the trailer, pausing only long enough to grab your coat and shoes, before opening the door.

Jared and Jensen were standing in front of the trailer a couple down from Jensen’s. Jensen was talking and gesturing, while Jared looked like he was trying not to laugh, shaking his head. You tiptoed down the stairs and hurried the other direction, not wanting to interrupt them. You were embarrassed enough, you didn’t need to pour salt in the wound. Once you were safely tucked in your car, you pulled out your phone and sent Jensen a text, explaining why you’d left. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be angry with you.

You weren’t sure how you convinced yourself to go to work the next day; the thought of seeing Jared after he’d seen you doing what you’d been doing with Jensen absolutely mortified you. Every noise you heard had you shooting a glance at the door, wondering if it would be Jared or Jensen walking in. Jensen had been completely understanding when you’d texted him, even apologizing for not locking the door when he’d come in, putting both of you in that terribly awkward position. He’d promised to make it up to you, his texts making you blush.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jared grinned as he came through the door. He fell into his chair, feet on the counter, candy box in his hand. “Want some?” he asked, holding it out to you.

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. Apparently Jared wasn’t as upset about what had happened as you’d thought he’d be. You set to work on his makeup, letting him talk, surprised that he didn’t bring up the previous night.

Once you had him ready to go you patted him on the shoulder. “You’re all set.”

“You’re awful quiet today, Y/N,” he said.

“Well, I, uh, I guess I thought you’d be freaking out after last night,” you said.

“Wh-what?” Jared stammered. “How-how do you know about last night?”

“Well, I mean, you did walk in on me and Jensen -”

Jared sat up ramrod straight, his eyes wide, the candy box tumbling to the floor. “Wait? That was you?”

“I thought you knew that,” you muttered. “I mean, you were talking to Jensen and I guess, I don’t know, I thought he told you.”

“He didn’t,” Jared grumbled. He pushed himself out of his chair and stalked from the trailer.

“Well, shit,” you sighed.

* * *

 

You rapped on Jensen’s trailer door, two short knocks, then you stepped back and waited, tapping your foot on the edge of the metal step. You were beginning to think he wasn’t inside, that you’d have to go hunt him down on set, when the door opened and he gestured you inside.

He waited until you were inside and the door was firmly shut behind you before he took you in his arms and kissed you. He rested his forehead against yours.

“Sorry again about last night,” he murmured.

“You didn’t tell Jared I was the person in the trailer with you?” you asked, pulling away from him and stepping out of the circle of his arms.

“Well, no,” Jensen replied, shaking his head. “He, well, he never asked and I didn’t volunteer it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Why?”

“Have you seen him today?” You dropped to the couch, the memory of the previous night flitting through your head. You wanted let yourself drown in the memories, let it consume you. It had been so close to perfect.

“No, I just got here an hour ago,” he said, pulling you from your musings. “He’s on set.”

“I thought he knew that it was me, so I said something to him. He walked out of the trailer and he seemed really pissed, Jen.” You shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jensen said, sitting beside you. “I’ll talk to him. See if he’s okay.”

But Jensen never got the chance. Jared avoided talking to him as effectively as he managed to avoid talking to you for the next few days. He’d show up in the makeup trailer with his headphones in, music turned up so loud you could hear it. If you tried to talk to him, he turned it up louder. By Thursday night, you’d given up trying, as had Jensen.

“He’s definitely pissed,” Jensen muttered. “He told Kim and Bob that he’s just trying to get in Sam’s headspace with the finale coming up, said he’s worried about us getting renewed, and a bunch of other excuses, none of which I’m buying. I don’t know what else to do.”

“I feel like this is all my fault,” you mumbled, adjusting the phone between your shoulder and your ear, trying to get comfortable. You were sprawled across your bed, half asleep, when Jensen called. It was after midnight and you were tired, but you hadn’t talked to him all day - you’d been in meetings most of the day, prepping for the finale. You’d missed him.

“It’s not, Y/N,” Jensen assured you. “I should have been honest with Jay from the beginning, told him about us. I trust him. He wouldn’t, and hasn’t, said anything to anyone. I’ll figure some way to get him to listen to me.” He sighed and you could hear him shifting around. “Look, I gotta go. I have an early call. See you in the morning?”

“Yeah, of course,” you sighed. You could only hope.

Jensen was already in the hair and makeup trailer when you arrived on set the next morning, sitting in his chair, his feet propped on the counter, his headphones in, a book in his lap. He rose to his feet as soon as you came in.

“Hey,” he smiled at you, pulling one of the earbuds out.

You hurried to his side, pushing up on your toes to kiss him. He put his hands on your waist, hugging you close for a few seconds before kissing the top of your head and releasing you, then returning to his seat. You busied yourself getting ready for the day, packing your kit for set, laying out the things you would need this morning. You were so absorbed in what you were doing that when the door behind you opened, you jumped and let out a startled squeak.

Jared came through the door, stopping two steps in when he saw Jensen. It was the first time they’d been in the trailer together since Monday. He glanced at his watch, seemed to contemplate whether or not he should just leave, then he stood up straighter, steeled his shoulders, and marched to his chair on the opposite side of the trailer. You sighed heavily and grabbed your clipboard, checking the day’s schedule. Jared was up first, so you started with him, glancing over at Jensen every now and then, wondering if he was going to speak up. Jared sat staring forward, unmoving, quiet. The silence was thick, uncomfortable, overwhelming. You cleared your throat several times, but Jensen steadfastly ignored you.

Fed up, you turned on your heel, marched across the trailer, slammed the door shut and threw the lock. Both boys jumped, Jensen coming out of his chair, his book falling to the floor.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

“Enough,” you snapped. “This is ridiculous. You two are friends. You need to talk this out.”

“Y/N,” Jensen moved toward you, shaking his head.

“I swear to God, Jensen, I will scream like I’m being murdered if you don’t sit your ass down and talk to Jared.” You glared at both of the boys. “Now.”

Jensen sank back into his chair, his eyes wide, the corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk. “Okay, okay, take it easy,” he chuckled.

“We’ll talk, Y/N, just…just relax, okay,” Jared added. He glanced at Jensen. “Right, Jen.”

Jensen was nodding. “Look, Jay, I don’t know for sure exactly what you’re angry about, but what I do know is that I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Y/N and I. I should have trusted you.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear, dude,” Jared said. “I would never betray you. Or you, Y/N. Crap, I’m the one who was trying to get you guys together.”

“That’s true,” you laughed. “He did spend a lot of time talking about how great you were. We probably owe him a thank you.”

“Yeah!” Jared added.

Jensen was chuckling and shaking his head. “You were kind of pushing us together, weren’t you?”

“You’re just lucky you got to her first, dude,” Jared shrugged. “I was gonna ask her out.”

“What?” you gasped. “You were not!”

“I was,” he replied. “Literally, like a week ago. Jensen was yet again protesting when I suggested asking you out, so I figured I would.”

“Are you kidding?” Jensen muttered. “I was protesting -” finger quotes - “because us dating was - and still is by the way - a secret. Damn, Jay.”

“I’m not gonna ask her out now,” Jared laughed. “But seriously, I’m sorry I was a dick. My feelings were hurt and I was being -”

“Immature?” you asked.

Jared threw a gummy bear at your head. You laughed and ducked. Jensen jumped out of his chair and caught a couple, launching them lightning fast back at Jared. The candy was still flying through the air when the assistant director came for the boys.

* * *

 

You threw your bag on the counter, kicked off your shoes, peeling off your clothes as you made your way to the bedroom. You dropped them in the basket by the door. You wanted a hot shower and a beer. It had been a long day, dragging on for hours and hours. You’d been on set until almost midnight, and just as you’d been about to leave, Mr. Manners had grabbed you to discuss a few last minute details about the next couple of episodes. You hadn’t left until after one.

Jensen and Jared had managed to duck out around ten. Jensen had texted you, letting you know that they were grabbing a few drinks and he’d call you in the morning. You were relieved that things seemed back to normal and grateful that he and Jared had apparently worked things out.

Twenty minutes later, you were laying on the couch, freshly showered, a beer in your hand, and some movie you’d never heard of playing on the television. You were half asleep, a blanket thrown over your legs, wishing Jensen were there with you. At first, you thought the knock you heard had come from the television, but a few seconds later, you heard it again, louder, followed by Jensen calling your name.

You set your beer on the table and hurried to the door, taking a quick look through the peephole before yanking it open. The second you laid eyes on Jared and Jensen standing outside your door, you knew they were drunk, Jared more so than Jensen. His nose was red and he was giggling every couple seconds.

“Y/N,” he crowed. “You’re home!” He stumbled into your apartment, bumping into you and almost knocking you over. He wrapped his gangly arms around you and hugged you to his chest. “I’m so glad you’re dating Jen,” he mumbled. “He’s a lucky guy. Hey, you got any food?” He released you and made a beeline for your small kitchen.

“What the hell?” you muttered, eyeing Jensen out of the corner of your eye as cupboard doors opened and closed behind you.

He chuckled and pulled you into his arms. “We had a few drinks. Jared gets hungry when he drinks.” He dropped his head, his lips on your neck, kissing you.

“Jensen,” you moaned. “Jared is right there.”

“I don’t care,” he growled. “I missed you.” He slipped his hands beneath the edge of your t-shirt. “I guarantee you he’s going to pass out on your couch in about a half an hour.”

You giggled, ran your fingers up into his hair, and pulled him down, crashing your lips into his. He tasted like whiskey and beer and mint gum. He groaned, crushing you against him, pushing his knee between your legs, and his thigh against your overheated core.

“Well, at least neither one of you is naked,” Jared mumbled as he squeezed past the two of you, heading toward your living room, a plate with a sandwich and chips in his hand. He flopped down on the couch and picked up the remote. “Though, I’d be alright with it, if Y/N was naked.” He shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

Jensen smacked him in the back of the head, chuckling as he sat in your small recliner, pulling you into his lap. He hand was on your knee, running up and down your thigh and then back. Goosebumps rose to the surface of your skin and a shiver ran through you. His lips drifted across your shoulders, his hand sliding farther and farther up your leg, beneath your shorts. You closed your eyes, a sigh escaping you.

“Jen, seriously,” you breathed. “I think Jared’s seen enough of the two of us without clothes on.”

“He’s asleep,” he whispered in your ear. “Just like I told you.”

You opened your eyes and peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, Jared was asleep, sprawled over your couch, the remote balanced on his chest, the sandwich, half eaten, on the plate next to his hand on the floor. You pushed yourself off Jensen’s lap, took his hand, and pulled, urging him to follow you.

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed.

You led Jensen into your bedroom, pushed the door closed behind you, and leaned against it, watching as he kicked off his boots and socks and yanked off his jacket before falling onto your bed. You bit the inside of your cheek, your insides churning. It was finally happening.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low and sexy.

You pulled your t-shirt off and slipped out of your shorts as you walked toward him, leaving you in just your panties. Jensen groaned, his eyes drifting up and down your almost naked body, drinking you in. You crawled up the bed beside him, your hand sliding up his leg, palming his cock through his jeans. He groaned again, his hips rising to press against your hand. He lifted you, lying you on top of him, catching your lips in his.

You planted a knee on either side of him and your hands on his chest, pushing yourself upright, grinding yourself against him, pulling another moan from him. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you forward, rocking his hips up and into you.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, squeezing your thighs together, grinding harder.

Jensen sat up, wrapped an arm around you, and cupped your breast, his thumb tracing the nipple. You dragged his shirt up and off, dropping it to the floor, then you shoved your hand between your bodies and hurried to undo his jeans, your fingers brushing the tip of his cock. Jesus, he was huge.

He moved, lightning quick, flipping you to your back. He pushed off his jeans and boxers, then he was back on you, his hand between your legs, his fingers teasing at your entrance, his mouth on yours. He slipped a finger inside you, twisting it carefully, grinning when your hips bucked and your fingers tightened on his arm.

“Jen -” you moaned.

“God, baby, you’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured, easing another finger in beside the first, your body trembling in response. He pressed soft, tender kisses down the line of your throat to your breast, suckling first one then the other as he scissored you open.

You ran your hand over his body - the muscles in his back, his broad shoulders, his arms, down his chest and over his abs - finally taking his thick cock in your hand, spreading the pre-come over the tip and down the shaft. He growled, his hips moving as you stroked him, his fingers plunging deeper inside you, both of you panting, moving against each other, grasping, clawing, pushed to the heights of desire.

“Condom?” you mumbled.

Jensen nodded, pushing himself away from you and snatching his jeans off of the floor. He dug through his pockets, muttering to himself.

“Jensen?” you asked after a couple of seconds.

“Fuck!” He fell back onto the bed, his hands over his face. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He leaned on one elbow, facing you, a sheepish look on his face. “I don’t have a condom.”

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. You weren’t sure which. It was as if the universe was conspiring against the two of you. First Jared, now this.

“Wait, does Jared have one?” you asked.

Jensen’s eyes lit up for a second, then he was scrambling off the bed and yanking on his jeans, stumbling out the bedroom door. You could hear him talking, Jared mumbling something in return, a crash like something - or someone - had hit the floor. Another couple of minutes went by before Jensen came back through the door, pushing it closed behind him.

“No,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t have any. And he almost killed himself falling off the couch trying to get his wallet out of his back pocket.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

You smiled at him, moving to the far side of your small bed, gesturing for him to join you.

Jensen crossed the room, kicked off his jeans, and climbed into the bed beside you. He adjusted the blankets around the two of you, then he pulled you into his arms, his hands drifting down your stomach, between your legs.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured, your hand on his wrist. “Really, Jen, it’s okay.”

“Y/N,” he sighed.

“No, I’m serious,” you said. “I wanna wait, wait until it’s both of us, together. That’s what I want, Jensen, it’s what I signed up for. You and me.”

He pressed his forehead to yours and hugged you to his chest, nearly crushing you. “What’d I do to deserve you?”

“Asked me out before Jared could,” you giggled.

Jensen laughed, his head thrown back, his entire body shaking. “Well, thank God for that,” he chuckled.

You turned around, adjusting the pillow under your head, your back against Jensen’s chest. He groaned and dragged you closer, tight against him, one hand resting lightly on your stomach, the other on your thigh. He dropped kisses to your still bare shoulders, before burying his nose in your hair. It wasn’t long before his breathing changed and you knew he was asleep.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift, content in Jensen’s arms.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh my God, you’re kidding, right?” Maggie laughed.

“No, Mags, I’m not kidding,” you sighed. “We were right there,  _again_ , ready to go all in and no condom.”

“And Jared was passed out in the living room?” your friend asked.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “God, it was gonna be so good.” You laid your head on the table, banging it several times. “He’s gonna be gone soon. He’s going home to Texas the day after we finish shooting, some big family event. His flight is scheduled first thing in the morning. We’ve got less than a week until he leaves and a full schedule of shooting and interviews. There’s barely time to breathe let alone do anything else.”

“Maybe you can figure it out,” Maggie said, trying to be helpful. “You know, the whole “love conquers all” thing.

“Oh Mags, I wish I was as optimistic as you,” you sighed.

* * *

 

It was the last day. Jensen was boarding a plane in the morning and flying away for three months.

You were in his trailer, between takes, waiting for one of the interns to come and get him, which was going to happen any minute now. You were pressed up against the wall, Jensen’s lips on your neck, his hands beneath your shirt, while you were palming him through his jeans, your body on fire, toying with the possibility that him fucking you up against the wall, hard and fast, wouldn’t be so bad.

This was the first chance the two of you had had to be alone for days and he’d been all over you the second you walked through the door, and you hadn’t protested one little bit. You’d just popped the button on his jeans and your hand was sliding past his underwear when there were three sharps raps on his trailer door, followed by someone calling his name.

“Shit,” he groaned in your ear. He pulled away, buttoning his pants as he walked across the trailer. You slipped out of sight, listening. Jensen was back at your side a seconds later.

“I gotta go,” he shrugged.

“I know,” you sighed.

He pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. Then he was gone.

You waited a few minutes, then you stepped out of Jensen’s trailer and hurried down to the makeup trailer. You glanced at your watch. Almost midnight. Another minute closer to the end of filming. You spent the next hour straightening up the trailer, purging it of season one, hopefully getting it ready for season two. You were almost finished when there was a knock on the door and Jared stuck his head in.

“Hey, Y/N, you gotta minute?” he asked. “We’ve got a makeup emergency on set.”

“A makeup emergency?” you laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m serious,” he chuckled. “Crazy, I know, but they asked me to get you.”

“Why didn’t they send Tasha or Aaron?” You grabbed your kit and followed Jared outside, weaving through the cars and trailers toward the huge building that housed the various sets.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Busy, maybe?” He was texting someone as he walked, a rapid fire exchange before slapping his phone closed and pulling open one of the many side doors. The two of you hurried down a dim hallway, finally coming out into a wide open space. The Impala was parked on one side, her back doors open. On the floor beside her was a large blanket and a box from one of the catering trucks.

“What’s this?” you muttered. You didn’t remember this scene from the script.

A loud clang came from the end of the long corridor, followed by Jensen’s voice echoing off the walls.

“Jay!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

“Back here,” Jared yelled back.

“Jared, what the hell is going on?” you asked.

Jensen came around the corner, his lips rounding into a shocked ‘O’ when he saw you standing there. Confusion colored his jade eyes as he stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away.

“Hey, guys, uh, what’s going on?” he muttered.

“Surprise!” Jared shouted, making both you and Jensen jump. He spread his arms wide, giggling like a schoolboy, bouncing on his toes. “This is for you guys. Food, blankets, privacy for a couple of hours. I swear, no one will disturb you. Including me.”

Jensen was shaking his head, laughing. He strode across the room and pulled Jared into a hug, slapping him on the back and whispering in his ear. Jared returned the hug, winked at you, and then he was gone, leaving you and Jensen listening to the echo of the door he’d just slammed closed.

The second that door closed, Jensen was across the room, pulling you into his arms, his lips on yours. The kiss was slow, easy, nothing like the rushed, overheated kisses you were accustomed to from your brief stolen moments. Jensen took his time, his tongue sliding over your teeth and into your mouth, tangling with yours, his hands on your waist, his thumbs drawing circles on the bare skin beneath the edge of your t-shirt.

You dropped your makeup kit to the floor, rose up on your toes and put your arms around Jensen’s neck, pushing yourself up and into the kiss, moaning low in the back of your throat. He leaned you against the Impala, his hips grinding against yours, heat flooding you. You pushed at his jacket, shoving it down his shoulders, followed by the ridiculous flannel with the cut off sleeves he wore, easing his movements beneath the jacket. You wanted to touch him, to feel his bare skin under your hands. You didn’t just want it, you craved it, you needed it.

Jensen pushed his knee between your legs, your stance widening to accommodate him, your foot kicking the box of food, knocking it over and sending the food inside tumbling to the floor. You broke off the kiss, giggling.

“Hungry?” you murmured.

“Only for you,” he growled. His patience seemed to snap, because he was suddenly pulling at your clothes, quickly divesting you of your shirt, your pants open, his hand inside of them, cupping your sex, his thumb pressed to your clit, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

Your head fell back against the roof of the car, Jensen’s lips working their way along the line of your throat, every kiss making you tingle with desire. His fingers eased inside you, crooking in a come hither gesture that had you moaning and squirming.

“Jensen,” you gasped, undulating against his fingers, close, so close.

“Fuck,” he groaned, twisting his fingers, dragging them across your sweet spot, grinding against your leg, his arousal straining against the tight jeans he was wearing, his breath dragging in and out of his throat.

You pushed him away, even though you didn’t want to, Jesus, you wanted him right there, pressed up against you for the rest of your life, but right now the barrier of clothes between you was pissing you off and you wanted it gone. You ripped your shirt over your head and pushed your half-off jeans the rest of the way off, kicking them away as if they’d burned you. You reached back to unhook your bra, but Jensen’s hands were there before yours, popping it open and sliding it down your arms, then he was pushing you into the backseat of the Impala, his own clothes falling to the ground as he tugged them off. He was on you a second later, his mouth closing over your nipple, suckling it, his hand back between your legs, quickly bringing you right up to the edge.

Jensen released your breast with a wet pop, his lips sliding over your shoulders and up your neck until he was catching your lips in his, his tongue thrusting in and out of your mouth in time with the movements of his fingers inside of you, relentless, not stopping until you were coming, your entire body tensing as you orgasmed, pleasure rushing through you. When he finally released you, you felt wrung out, wasted, in the best way possible.

He pushed himself to his knees, chuckling low in the back of his throat, pointing at something behind you. You sat up, balanced on your elbows, glancing over your shoulder to where Jensen was pointing. The small ashtray in the armrest of the door was filled with condoms, so many they were overflowing and falling to the floor.

Jensen reached past you and grabbed one, ripping it open and sliding it down his substantial length. You reached for him, stroking him several times, his head falling back, a deep-throated moan leaving him. You opened your legs, guiding him to your entrance, gasping as he entered you. You grabbed the back of the seat, your fingers digging into the leather as he filled you. He was gentle, taking his time, allowing your body to adjust to his size, kissing you sweetly as he slowly pumped his hips.

He groaned loudly once he was fully seated, buried deep inside of you, the connection between you absolutely perfect. He wrapped an arm around your back, lifting you to meet him as he fucked you nice and slow. Your head was spinning, your body on fire, previously unimaginable feelings assaulting you as Jensen moved inside you, dragging his cock against your g-spot over and over, until you were ready to scream. You wrapped your legs around the back of his thighs, pulling him forward, urging him to move.

Jensen didn’t disappoint, his hips pumping faster and faster, thrusting ever deeper, until you were coming again, your mouth pressed against his shoulder, muffling your screams of pleasure. He twisted his fingers in your hair, tipping your head back so he could kiss you, his own moans vibrating against your lips. It seemed almost never ending, the sensations so perfect that you weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

“Y/N,” Jensen groaned, a shudder running through him as he let go, his mouth melded to yours, breath mingling, both of you moaning. His movements slowed, the urgency to finish, to reach that peak having passed, his focus on you, touching you, caressing you, kissing you.

It was a long time before the two of you crawled out of the backseat of the Impala. Jensen did things to you in there you’d never had done to you before, made you feel things you hadn’t thought possible. You used quite a few of the condoms Jared had jokingly left for you, both of you giggling at how surprised he’d be if he knew. When you did finally emerge, you were both starving, digging into the box of food, nearly devouring all of it, before making love on the blanket spread across the floor. You finally emerged from the building at dawn, just as the sun was peaking over the horizon.

Jensen walked you to your car, your hand held loosely in his. You tried to hold back the tears, but to no avail, a few of them were already sliding down your cheeks. Jensen cupped your face in his hands and brushed them away with his thumbs, his lips drifting over your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Y/N,” he murmured. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m…I’m…sorry,” you stammered. “Three months is so long and I won’t be able to get away because of that stupid movie I agreed to do and you’re gonna be in freaking Texas and…and…and…”

He cut you off with a kiss, his arms around you, hugging you close. You buried your face against his chest, memorizing his scent, his touch, the way he breathed, everything about him, so you could hold onto this moment forever.

“It’ll be over before you know it,” he whispered. “I promise.”

You nodded, still locked in his embrace. You didn’t want to bring up every negative, “this-is-over” insecurity you had, not now, not when you’d just had the perfect night and he was only a few short hours from getting on a plane and flying out of your life.

“I have to go,” Jensen mumbled. “God, I’m so sorry, but I’m gonna miss my flight if I don’t go.”

As if on cue, a black SUV pulled in the lot, the window sliding down as it came to a stop beside you. Jared smiled, shrugging weakly.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said, “but I have to steal him.”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say. You kissed Jensen’s cheek, mumbling “I love you” so quickly and quietly that you didn’t think he heard you. You pulled open your car door and dropped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door just a little too hard. You watched as he climbed into the backseat and the SUV rolled out of the lot, picking up speed as soon as it hit the street.

You started your car, ready to leave, when your phone chirped from your purse. You yanked it free, figuring it was Mags wanting an update. But it was Jensen.

_Love you, too._


End file.
